maybe | hitoshi shinsou x reader

~chapter 4~

The rest of the day carries on pretty much how it would at any regular school. There's an English as a second language class though, which they exempt you from. It's kind of disappointing; you wanted to have something that you could get an easy A in.

Afterwards, everyone just heads home. There aren't any school buses, so you have to head home via subway. Or  is it a train? What's the difference, really?

Well, you would head straight home, but you have a bit of a predicament. With money. A money problem, if you will. 

You need to get a job. 

Normally, in your situation, you'd have a host family who'd house and feed you and you wouldn't have to worry about things like bills, or whatever. You don't know how your mom did it, but she somehow got you out of that system. It's almost upsetting. A host family's the kind of thing you'd dream about as a kid. Something big and happy. Something that feels like a real family, and less like someone's trying to force you into the mold of one. 

But no use getting upset about it now.

You get checks every other week from your mom to fund your basic needs like bills and food and stuff, but after paying off utilities and going grocery shopping, you're not left with much else. You'd like to remedy that.

Thankfully, if nothing else, your mom was able to pull something with immigration and your student visa that meant you're able to legally hold a job. That's good, because you don't know what you'd do if you had to illegally hold a job. 

What's even illegal in Japan? Guns? You could sell guns. 

But you'd probably be better off getting a job in a café, or convenience store, or something. 

With that in mind, you set out on your epic quest in pursuit of financial security.

~~

Job hunting is hard.

"Ah, thanks anyway, sir," you say to the sixth person who's not looking to hire anyone. That was the second convenience store. He gives you a curt nod and with that you leave, a little bell over the door signaling your exit.

Another fruitless venture. It was kind of disheartening.

Really disheartening, actually.

As if to accompany your dwindling mood, a cloud blankets the already dimming sun, ushering in an unwelcome chill that has you hugging your arms against the cold. Stores start shuttering their windows and flipping their "open" signs around. You start a brisk walk.

As you walk, you try to keep an eye out for anything promising that's still has their lights on. It's row after row of nothing, unless a seedy pawn shop is your definition of promising. Everything's either closed by now or not even a viable option. At this rate, if you go too much further, you're not going to be within a comfortable walking distance of your apartment.

There had to be a better way to do this. Online applications, or something?

Ah, if only. It's a good idea, but you're not nearly as good at reading Japanese as you are speaking it (three alphabets is a little much, really). You're kind of dreading the future school assignments you'll have to scrape by on. At least you had the forethought to start cramming as much as you could before the move, but even that could only get you so far.

Maybe you could come back here tomorrow, or choose a different direction to walk in and try your luck there, but you wanted to get this over with already. 

Sighing, you spot a can in front of you on the sidewalk. You kick it, frustration fueling your new apathy towards litter. It flies in front of you a few feet, landing in the storefront of a dingy-looking café.

It's still open, evident by the hustle and bustle of customers inside. You look up at its sign, the flickering neon outline of a coffee cup, signboard dusted with rust and age, looping and curling kanji that looks more like doodles to your ignorant eyes.

Good enough?

 Yeah. 

You walk over and push open the door, the chime of a bell announcing your entrance.

The inside looks better than the outside. With tables grouped into the corners, soft mood lighting, and a kitschy sort of atmosphere, the place is almost kind of quaint. The scuffed red brick interior and fairy lights give it an industrial chic vibe, if such a thing is even possible. 

The worker at the counter sits dully,  wearing a teal apron and a name tag emblazoned with the indecipherable kanji for their name. You think even if you were good at reading kanji, you'd have no idea what that says. The handwriting is such a messy scrawl that it resembles one of those paintings that just seems really lazy, but supposedly has a lot of rich history and meaning behind it. With wary steps, you approach them.

"Hi welcome to Bean Town, how may I help you?" they ask, eyes glazed over with the kind of internal deadness only achievable by a tired barista.

Bean Town? Bean Town? This place is called Bean Town?

"This place is called Bean Town?"

They look at you like you're slow. "Yeah. Bean Town. Are you going to buy something?"

You pause, mouth agape, protests ready at the tip of your tongue before you give up trying to contest the fact that someone chose to name their café Bean Town.

"Um, actually, I'm kind of looking for a job and-"

They cut you off with a sigh. Then, turning around towards the back where all the coffee things happen, they shout, "Karage! Some kid's unemployed!"

A few seconds later, a man walks out from the back. He's tall, kind of loom-y, and his hair's white from age. He looks down at you, calculating.

He looks for a long time actually. Definitely longer than is socially acceptable. It's not like he's looking you up and down either, he just stares into your eyes. Into your soul.  

You try to keep from sweating under his gaze.

Apparently satisfied with whatever he's found, he nods. "Part-time?" he asks you.

"Um, yeah, part-time." You think you answered that correctly, because he nods again. 

"When can you start?"

"Uh, this weekend, I guess. I'd like to be more settled in school and stuff..." You trail off trying to refrain from rambling in front of who you think is your new boss.

Another nod, because that seems to be Karage's whole deal. He goes to turn back, but before he can, you stop him. 

"Sir?"

"Hm?"

"Why Bean Town?"

He looks at you, mirth in his eyes, and starts chuckling, like he knows something you don't.

Maybe you shouldn't have come here.

~~

A/N: yeah karage is like, fried chicken, but idc it's his name now. also sorry for bringing random people into this, but i promise it's plot related. or at least plot adjacent

also, i reread book 1 of the manga and apparently the hero training stuff only happens after lunch?? oops... well this is my city now